


Merry Christmas, Baby

by floosilver8



Series: Schitt Sex [6]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christmas Smut, Episode: s04e13 Merry Christmas Johnny Rose, High Patrick Brewer, High Sex, It's a Christmas Miracle!, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:35:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floosilver8/pseuds/floosilver8
Summary: The continuing sexploits of Schitt's Creek.You don't need to read the others in the series to follow this one.Mostly canon compliant. Just wrapping up S4E13 for this Holiday season.(Title from Tina Turner's "Merry Christmas, Baby")
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Schitt Sex [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806271
Comments: 10
Kudos: 117





	Merry Christmas, Baby

Patrick and David were both full of Holiday Cheer, not enough canapes, and possibly far too much of Jocelyn’s eggnog. That woman knew how to make a damn good party drink, that was for sure. So, after Johnny Rose had handed out the family Christmas gifts, Alexis grabbed her overnight bag and caught up with Ted, and the door between the rooms had been firmly shut and locked. David did not want to know what his parents got up to after one of their famous Christmas parties.

“So, in all the fuss to get here for the party we didn’t actually talk about our schedule for today, or tomorrow,” Patrick says, holding David on the too small twin bed.

“Mmm,” David kisses him lazily, giving them both a second to think. “I know it’s not sexy, but you could spend the night here if you wanted. It would be nice to...to wake up with my boyfriend on Christmas Day.” He's trying not to appear too eager and trying to push out of his mind the fact that this would literally be the first time that's ever happened to him.

“I _could_ do that. My hiking pack is in the car with some extra clothes.”

“Well, see? That’s just convenient then,” David grins, settling in for a deeper kiss to seal the deal. He just has his fingers under Patrick’s sweater when his pocket buzzes several times in a row, disturbing their peaceful moment. David shifts back slightly and checks his phone to find two messages from Stevie.

 **Stevie: There’s a present for you & Patrick in room 9 if you’re still at the motel.** **Stevie: You’re welcome.**

A third message comes in as he’s reading, trying to image what it could possibly be and wondering why she couldn’t give it to him earlier.

**Stevie: Happy Chrismukkah.**

“What’s up?” Patrick asks, pressing his lips to the nape of David’s neck.

“Stevie left us a present in room nine apparently?” David sits up to text her back but makes no other move to leave the room.

**David: Which of the 12 bottles of wine are you on right now?**

“Aw, that’s nice of her,” Patrick grins and starts shoving his feet back into his shoes, ready to find out what it is, as David’s phone buzzes again.

**Stevie: Two calling birds. 🖕🖕**

“Is it?!” David’s voice is high and pitchy.

“Isn’t it?” The confusion written on Patrick’s face reminds David that he has no idea what’s in store for him. That he hasn’t known Stevie as long as David has, doesn’t know what she’s capable of.

David has to take a deep steadying breath for what he’s about to reveal and the bewilderment in Patrick only deepens. “Okay…let’s go see what it is and then you can judge for yourself.”

They don their shoes and coats for the short trek two doors down, not fully lacing or zipping anything. Patrick doesn’t verbally question why David has a key to the room, but his gaze is intent enough that David explains briefly before turning the knob.

“Stevie lets me store my off-season clothes in here…it’s…well...you’ll see.” David opens the door wide and slaps at the light switch by the door, turning on the too bright bedside lamps. The furnishings in the room look even more garish this way.

Very tentatively, Patrick walks all the way into the room, taking it in – the heart-shaped bed, its red poly-satin sheets, the disco ball, the familiar but slightly-off wall decor.

“This is…” he says slowly, not facing David.

“Yeah, I know,” David hesitates in the doorway, too distracted by Patrick’s reaction to the room to remember their task.

“… _so hilarious_ ,” Patrick finally finishes his assessment, grinning from ear to ear and turning to David. He reaches to pull David in all the way, holding him firmly and intentionally by the hips, bringing their lips to meet in a slow and languid kiss. Inhaling sharply, he shifts to push David’s coat off his shoulders, trailing his hands down his arms as he does so.

“What?” David pulls back, blinking several times, torn between getting turned on by the way Patrick’s holding him tightly and the absurdity of this room. “I mean, yes, it is hilarious. But what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Patrick asks, kissing David deeply again and slipping his own coat off. “I’m calling her bluff and enjoying Stevie’s present to us. A night _alone_ , David.”

David lets himself be drawn in by Patrick’s roaming hands and eager lips, moving away only to make sure the door is firmly deadbolted before returning to his embrace.

“Okay, fine. If we’re doing this in here, you need to know two things,” David holds a hand against Patrick’s chest so he can get this out. “Number one, this is in fact the room where Stevie and I…” he widens his eyes pointedly, looking for the right words, but he’s rescued from having to find them when Patrick gapes at him in understanding.

“Oh!…Okay...Alright…”

“Which _I_ am fine with if you are,” David clarifies quickly.

“Yeah, no. It’s...fine. …I’m betting this room has seen a million drunken hook-ups, eh?”

“Okay, well we’re not thinking about _that_ right now,” David shudders.

“What’s the second thing?”

“There’s a mirror,” David says this as calmly as he can and just points upward. Patrick takes a moment before following David’s extended finger.

“Ah,” he says conclusively, unable to tear his eyes way from the ugly truth. “Right.”

David’s about to let him off the hook, turn off the light and take him back to the room he has called home for years now. But then Patrick is grinning, his eyes flashing fire, and his hands are roaming again.

“This is going to be so fun,” he says quickly capturing David’s lips.

“I hate Stevie so much,” David lies.

Their sweaters are shucked rather quickly, barely parting in a dance they are growing more accustomed to. Patrick’s hands are impatient on the fly of David’s jeans as they decide that yes, the disco ball needs to be turned on for the complete experience. They paw at each other eagerly, stumbling out of shoes and fully pulling off jeans.

Eventually Patrick steers them in the right direction and David falls ungracefully onto the bed. When Patrick’s mouth finds David’s neck there’s a moment when David forgets and tilts his head back before being assaulted by his own reflection. And he should hate it, and he does, but Patrick’s ass looks _so good_ from this angle. So, he keeps his eyes on his boyfriend’s physique instead of his own, and it’s somehow not the worst anymore.

Patrick nudges David further up the bed so they can both fully stretch out, and when David settles back against the pillows his head hits the corner of something small and hard.

“What the fuck,” he whispers, shifting up to unearth the foreign object from the sheets.

There’s a slightly smushed red bow on top, but the item David pulls out is unmistakably an old cigarette case, which at first makes no sense until his brain starts making connections.

“Wait, is that the present?!” Patrick asks, holding himself up over David and watching his every move.

The case is fairly plain, not particularly beautiful, but David opens it anyway, curious to see if there are any markings inside, or a note at least. There is, in fact, a note inside. Along with two tightly rolled joints and a slim lighter.

“Oh, shit,” David grins brightly, reading the note that just says, “enjoy” in Stevie’s chicken scratch.

It had been a while since David and Stevie had smoked up together, not since they had begrudgingly admitted to being best friends. And David had never even heard Patrick mention ever getting high, much less do it in front of him. But now the opportunity is presenting itself, and Patrick’s grin is matching his own.

“Want to get really high and fuck in this ridiculous room?” David asks, trying to bite back his enthusiasm in case his buttoned-up boyfriend isn’t into it.

“Um, yes,” Patrick says enthusiastically, shifting off the bed and scrambling for his clothes. “But first I’m going back to your room and getting the leftover party snacks. Don’t start without me.”

David just gapes at him for a second, watching Patrick stuff his legs into his jeans and throw his jacket over his bare torso. “I love you so much,” he whispers more to himself, but Patrick hears it and grins, practically running out the door.

Shaking his head, David retrieves his phone to let Stevie know her gift was very thoughtful. He texts her a picture of the open case, one of the joints in between his long fingers.

**Stevie: Oh, so you found it then? ;-)  
** **Stevie: How does Patrick like the mirror?**

And then it hits David that the only way they would have found the present is if they had been in the bed. That Stevie had done it on purpose to yes, be a troll, but also give them a Christmas Eve together they’d never forget.

**David: Best Chrismukkah ever.**

**Stevie: Gross. Please change the sheets tomorrow.**

**David: Can do.**

**David: And thank you. Happy Christmas, Stevie. x**

**Stevie: 🍷** [wine glass emoji]

Patrick’s not gone a full minute before he’s back with a tray of cookies stacked on top of two bowls that were probably the pretzels and mixed nuts. Not the finest of junk foods, but they couldn’t be picky in this moment. He also has what must be his hiking backpack slung over one shoulder, which drops with a thud after he unloads the food onto the table by the kitchenette. He’s fully naked not even 20 seconds after that, finding his spot next to David on the crimson bed.

Whatever strain of weed Stevie had rolled up for them was…whew…good. So good. It hadn’t taken long for David to feel like he was melting into the bed, safe and warm with Patrick’s solid form next to him. They both sprawl out, gazing at each other through the haze of smoke and reflection of the ceiling mirror, laughing softly at nothing - David might confess to liking The Nutcracker because he likes the idea of dessert dancing on his tongue, which sends Patrick into hysterics. But also, this room is objectively laughable, so occasionally it was because of that.

It’s when they’ve nearly finished with the first joint that Patrick starts stroking his cock slowly, effectively teasing both himself and his boyfriend. David is still in his everyday Armani’s, in a constant state of half-arousal, and had been thoroughly enjoying the site of Patrick bare and brazen while they smoked. Suddenly the ceiling mirror is the greatest invention ever to exist and David mentally mood boards a redo of Patrick’s room at Ray’s to include one if he gets this view again.

“Oh, fuck,” David gasps, palming his own growing erection through his black briefs. “I wish you had grabbed the lube from my room. I would love to watch you come like this.”

“I _did_ grab the lube from your room,” Patrick says very seriously, too seriously, not ceasing his movements. “It’s in the side pocket of my pack.” For some reason that’s very funny to Patrick and he repeats "pocket of my pack" several times.

David shoots off the bed, holding the joint between his lips as he finds the bottle right where Patrick said it would be. He only pauses to fully exhaust the roach and set it on the open lid of the metal case before returning to his spot.

“You are so beautiful,” Patrick giggles, his eyes are glassy but mischievous at the same time. “Your body is so willowy. …Like an elf. …Get your cock out, David.”

David really, _really_ likes high-Patrick.

It only takes four seconds for David to follow orders, stripping off his underwear. If his limbs had been slightly more coordinated, maybe he would have been a little faster. Regardless, he sinks into the feeling of the smooth sheets, the warmth of Patrick’s body heat next to him, and the absolutely gorgeous sight of Patrick fully pleasuring himself. Without taking his eyes off Patrick’s reflection, David uncaps the bottle and drizzles the slick liquid into his own palm before taking his hard length in hand.

“Here,” David unceremoniously drips lube onto Patrick’s cock, certain he’s being helpful and too far gone to realize how clumsy it is.

But Patrick doesn’t bat an eye, working himself with more enthusiasm now, his breath hitching.

“Oh, fuck,” David breathes, biting his lips to ground himself.

“Yes, David,” Patrick gasps, raking his eyes over the reflection of David in the mirror. “Your cock is so gorgeous. I want to watch you come.”

“I want to watch _you_ come,” David insists because he’s pretty sure he called it first, and that’s only fair.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Patrick agrees eagerly, speeding up his strokes and tilting his hips to meet his own fist.

“Patrick, Patrick, Patrick,” David whispers nonsensically. “Yes, yes, yes, yes…” If he was less high, maybe he would have had some more coherent dirty talk. He thinks a lot of dirty things - how much he loves Patrick’s thick cock, how he loves to choke on it, but he’s not sure any of them make it out of his mouth.

“Your mouth, your mouth,” Patrick is babbling. “Your pretty mouth, David.”

“I know, baby, I know,” David accepts.

“Fuck, David. David, David, David,” Patrick’s breaths are shallow and quick, and even David’s blitzed brain knows that means Patrick is close.

“Yes, baby, _yes_. You’re so hot, you’re so hot. Come. Come, come, come.”

With a loud gasp and a shudder Patrick comes over his own fist, arching beautifully against the sheets, closing his eyes because he physically can’t keep them open.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” David gasps, impossibly more turned on, wanting to follow Patrick right behind, wanting to lick his stomach clean of the mess he’s made. “Touch me, touch me,” he chants.

“Fuck, yes,” Patrick pants, still trying to catch his breath. “I’m touching your cock, David.”

He wasn’t. He was still only touching himself.

But it doesn’t matter because David was an expert at getting himself off. With only a few more firm, quick strokes he’s cresting up the hill ready, so ready for the free fall that bursts from the base of his spine and shoots hot come into his hand and onto his stomach.

“ _Fuck_. Yes. I love you.”

Neither of them would be able to later identify which of them said what in the moment.

David thinks he might be slightly more with-it than Patrick, so he gets up first to pad to the bathroom and clean himself off. Instinctively, he checks the towel rack while he turns on the sink and bursts out laughing.

“What?!” Patrick calls, his voice still rough from the smoke and orgasm.

“Stevie,” David says by way of response.

“Where?!” Patrick asks, far more confused and disturbed now.

“No, she left us like, 12 washcloths in here. And a fresh box of condoms.” There was even another red bow on the box. David cleans himself up and brings the warm cloth back with him to help Patrick out. “How many times does she think we can have sex in one night?”

“Mmm, we could find out!” Patrick suggests helpfully. And if sober-Patrick can’t wink, high-Patrick _really_ can’t wink.

After clean-up and snacks there’s more kissing and fucking, slowly letting themselves sober up before they finally turn off the disco ball. And David does insist on returning to his room for his nightly grooming ritual, but he finally falls into bed with Patrick before they both lose consciousness, exchanging slurred ‘Merry Christmases’ against the other’s skin. In the morning they'll have hangovers and hair that smells like weed, but they'll wake up _together_ on Christmas Day, which is all they could ask for.


End file.
